Monday, February 10, 2014

Nothing about divorce is easy. I wrote that two months ago
as I dealt with my first holiday season as a divorced woman. I predicted that
that statement would pop up often as I continued to stumble upon the endless
“firsts” all divorced people are forced to live through.

I’ve passed through a lot of firsts already, and I’m proud
to say I continue to come out on the other side feeling empowered and more
prepared to face the next one (because I can tell you, the next one is never
far away).

I got through my first Thanksgiving, my first Christmas, and
my first New Year’s. I got through the move that brought me to my first home as
a single woman, the first document I signed after legally changing back to my
maiden name, and the first experiences of online dating. All of these firsts,
regardless of how minor they may seem, helped me as I recently faced down one
of the major ones: meeting my ex-husband’s live-in girlfriend.

Just as few people enter marriage thinking it will end in
divorce, a wife rarely thinks to herself, “I wonder what it will be like to
meet the girlfriend of the man I thought I’d spend the rest of my life with.”
There’s just no way to prepare yourself for the introduction to your
replacement.

For me, that introduction was not only necessary but long
overdue. This was the woman my ex moved into our marital home two weeks after
our divorce was final. The woman who, on the weekends, does my daughter’s hair
and removes the nail polish I applied. The woman who eats breakfast with my
children and washes their laundry. The woman who watches movies and goes
bowling with them. The woman my children come home talking about and asking me
questions about, questions I’m not able to answer because I don’t have any
answers myself. The woman who I had to learn about from my 6-year-old daughter
when she came home after one weekend and blurted out: “Daddy’s getting a
roommate. She’s really nice. Her name is Miss _____. We met her yesterday.”

After a while I realized I had to meet this woman. It was my
duty as a mother to meet the person who was spending so much time with and
closely interacting with my kids. I had to shake the hand of the woman my
ex-husband had chosen to bring into the kids’ lives. And I had to be okay with
the fact that I was putting a large amount of trust into him that, for the sake
of our kids, he had chosen that person wisely.

I had to do it for my own peace of mind, but for my
children’s as well. I know they found it odd I had never met Daddy’s “roommate”
(he has not told them that she is his girlfriend), and I didn’t want them to
think there was tension between their mother and the maternal figure at their
father’s house to the point that they couldn’t talk about and/or communicate
their curiosity about the differences between my home and his.

Of course I’d be lying if I didn’t admit I wanted to appease
my own curiosity as well. After nearly 15 years with me, what kind of woman
sparked my ex’s interest? Who was this woman sleeping in the room I used to
sleep in? Could I actually be friends with her? Could I feel comfortable
calling her up to discuss issues with the kids? How would she react to meeting
her boyfriend’s ex-wife?

Because of all these things, I told my ex I wanted to meet
his girlfriend. And last weekend, I did. I drove to my old house, I rang my old
doorbell, and after she opened my old front door, I shook hands with The
Girlfriend and with a smile I said, “Hi, I’m Heather. It’s so nice to finally
meet you. I’ve heard so much about you from the kids.”

The meeting wasn’t at all as I had envisioned in the days
leading up to it. I wasn’t very surprised that, based on first impressions, The
Girlfriend couldn’t be more different than me. I was more surprised that she
didn’t exert too much effort to be friendly to me (you would think she’d invite
me into the house BEFORE I announced I was going to leave, instead of forcing a
conversation in the doorway). I was even more surprised by my own apathy toward
seeing my ex with another woman. But what totally surprised me was how I felt
afterward.

In the days that followed the meeting, I felt like a weight
had been lifted. This mystery woman was no longer a mystery. Now, when the kids
come home and talk about Miss ___, I can imagine the scene, I can hear the
sound of her voice as she spoke to them. It was almost as if I had just hired a
nanny after the initial interview.

In the end, it didn’t really matter that The Girlfriend
never looked me in the eye or that she dropped more than one snide comment that
caused me to bite my tongue to keep from inserting my own snide comments. (I’d
like to attribute both to the possibility that she was nervous.) No, at the end
of the day, this was about my children and how she treated them. And because of
this meeting, I am now at peace with the other woman in my children’s lives.

Will I ever be friends with The Girlfriend? No. And I don’t
have to be. But am I glad I met her? Absolutely.